#mark frazer

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Samurai Cop (1991)

[astralbondpro]

Samurai Cop (1991) // Dir. Amir Shervan

[l-ultimo-squalo]

Samurai Cop (1991) Dir. Amir Shervan

[adamwatchesmovies]

Samurai Cop (1991)

In terms of movies that are so bad they're good, Samurai Cop has it all. The razor-thin plot is little more than an excuse to string together car chases, overly violent fights, ridiculous characters, equally bewildering dialogue, gratuitous sex scenes, laughable performances, unconvincing wigs, badly dubbed extras, befuddling editing choices and the kind of mistakes only a director drunken on their own power could make. It constantly surprises you despite a story devoid of any imagination.

To combat the Japanese gang that’s taken over Los Angeles' cocaine trade, “samurai” policeman Joe Marshall (Mathew Karedas) joins the force. With his partner Frank Washington (Mark Frazer), the two make a break in the case when Joe catches the eye of Jennifer (Janis Farley), a woman whom crime lord Fuj Fujiyama (Cranston Komuro) is attempting to romance.

You might’ve seen one of the film’s best scenes on YouTube at some point: the one where Joe talks to a flirty hospital nurse whose pickup lines you’d expect to hear coming from a drunken frat boy. Trust me, that’s just the beginning. This movie feels like it was conceived by a horny, bloodthirsty 13-year-old and written by aliens. While on a bust, Joe will say something to fellow officer Peggy (Melissa Moore) and you’ll think “That’s a weird line; you could probably take that one the wrong way without trying much…” only to realize the innuendo wasn’t accidental at all! You shouldn’t be surprised when it happens over and over, but you will be.

Eventually, you’ll realize this movie was shot most of the way, only for the production to run out of money and shooting to resume months later (it explains why Matthew Maredas has to wear a wig in his first scene). It's obvious, but you're taken aback. You’re not used to seeing movies this earnest made this badly. Samurai Cop has recurring jokes, the kind of recurring jokes that anyone with any kind of good sense would’ve thrown away and then burned out of shame. When writer/director Amir Shervan shoots a man emerging from a burning vehicle, he doesn’t think to ask the stunt guy to scream or act like he's in pain. All he sees is a man COVERED IN FLAMES, exactly as he’d envisioned it, which means it's a flawless take.

The plot of Samurai Cop is so basic it would’ve been as dull as a butter knife if it weren’t for the constant blunders. In one scene, the actors are clearly done delivering their lines and are waiting for the director to yell “CUT!” After he did, the editor (either Ruben Zadurian or Amir Shervan once more) didn’t go ahead and eliminate those extra few seconds of nothing; they kept them in. You’re as dumb-struck as the performers, wondering if there’s something you’re supposed to do to make this ordeal end… and then it does, so you breathe a sigh of relief. If Samurai Cop pulled that stunt on you, there's no telling what's next. Will it be two goons dubbed over by what has to be the director, using the same voice, in a row? How about someone going from 0 to 100 in one second, or some pointless nudity? You don’t know but every time, your response will be “Oh, well of course!”

The glory that is Samurai Cop cannot be contained in a few hundred words, and it can’t be summarized in a “best of video” either. If you have friends who don't understand why you like watching bad movies, show them this one. They'll be howling in no time. (September 1, 2021)

[thespoonlagoon]

Samurai Cop. An absolute classic.

Why sure, it's a "bad movie" ...but it's such a great social movie to watch with friends.

Thank you Amir Sheevan, your lost in translation approach to making an American action film has made a lot of people happy.

If you're a huge fan like me (or know someone who is), then I invite you to check out my Etsy page if you would like one. CLICK HERE

[stradakiev]

I just watched the boys! boys! boys! Interview with Peter Purves, Frazer Hines and Mark Strickson and why did everything about the title and intro make me think it was about to be a music video with the three of them as their characters

[duranian]

I wish there was video of this omg. singing AND dancing??

[sweetsy]

wow wow wow the genes do not disappoint

Paige Frazer || Absent-Minded / Good /Vegetarian / Photographer's Eye

[pedroam-bang]

Uncharted (2022)

[forensicated]

05x35 - Only A Bit Of Thieving

Ted arrives at an address and notes that a panel on the front door has been broken and covered up with a thin piece of wood. He introduces himself to the house owner, Mrs Power. She is confused by his arrival as she's already spoken to an officer about her recent break-in. She thought she was safe as she had all the - at that time - mod cons and non-electric security features available to secure the house. She's now very paranoid as she and her husband moved from their last home due to a burglary. Her husband is away on business, so she's home alone. Ted tells her there has been a spate of burglaries in the area. There is a pattern that shows the burglars return soon after to take what they missed. Ted asks if she has a room that overlooks the back garden, she tells him she has a sewing room on the top floor that does and agrees for them to use it for an obbo.

Ken has a three-day secondment with CID and is very excited because he doesn't see himself ending his days in uniform. [Oh, Kenneth 😪]. He's very excited to stake out the house with Ted, despite Alistair's claim of there being no available overtime. Ted has told Ken that he will get them overtime, so Ken is waiting for him. "The wily old pole cat! He sleeps, you keep watch, and he gets paid for it! How does he do it?!" Alistair exclaims. Alistair and Ted declare the first two rules of CID. 1 - from Ted - know your angles. 2 - from Alistair - don't believe anything that comes from Ted! Ted confirms that, through telling a 'minor untruth,' he's managed to get 4 hours of overtime approved by Brownlow.

At the house, Ted tells Mrs Power that they'll let themselves out of the house when they're done and won't disturb her so she can go to bed as normal. Ted smokes whilst Ken keeps watch, telling him that he can see right into other people's houses with the night sight. "Dirty minded berk!" "Not like that!" Ken asks how Ted managed to swing the overtime, and all he replies is 'politics'. Ken asks again and we get the third rule of CID. "Ask no questions, you get told no lies" He pauses before smirking that Ken was right about seeing right into people's houses. Who was it with the dirty mind?

The night sight allows them to spot three dodgy-looking teens creeping into the garden and taking a ladder. They approach the house and climb onto a flat roof, and start to break in. Ken and Ted leave the house and creep into the garden to see what they're doing. Ken is told to stay out of sight whilst Ted climbs the ladder to disturb the criminals as they break in. Ted warns them to keep still and then shouts to Ken to get the van. Two edge to the side of the roof, whilst one that Ted tackles brings out a knife and threatens to cut him. Ted asks him to give him the knife. The kid contemplates jumping off, but Ted tells him not to as it's too high. Moments later, there's the sound of a scuffle and the lad falls to the ground with a scream. Ken checks on him and shouts for Ted. Ted tells him to call an ambulance.

Uniform arrive and arrest the other two suspects whilst the paramedics load the injured lad into the ambulance. Bob tells Ken to go to the hospital with the injured lad as he's technically a prisoner. "I can feel it already..." Tony tells the uniformed officers. "Nasty...."

Mrs Power feels sorry for the lad, but Ted is unmoved. "He shouldn't have been up there, should he?!" Christine enters without knocking and tells Ted to follow her. Ted charms Mrs Power and thanks her for everything, but Christine cuts in with "Now!" She tells him the lad was only 14. "Old enough to go out stealing!" insists Ted. Christine demands a full report from him for what happened and tells him she'll be getting one from Ken too, and she'll know if he's intimidated Ken.

At Sun Hill, the other two teens are overwhelmed as they're led into a loud and chaotic Custody. Claire and Tony call the boys' parents and inform them of their arrests and that they need appropriate adults. One of the dads, Mr Wilson, Is furious that he's been woken in the middle of the night and is even more angry to be asked if he knew where his son was. Bob tells him his son he is being charged with attempted burglary. "Didn't get inside, didn't have a chance because of that poxy copper!" Paul then alleges that Ted pushed his friend from the roof.

Bob orders Ken to return to Sun Hill after replacing him at St Hughes. He asks Claire to bring Ken straight to his office and to not let him talk to anyone, especially anyone from CID. Upstairs, Ted is writing his statement and has a call from Christine to go down to her office. Ken returns and goes straight to the Duty Sergeant's office whilst Ted signs his statement and heads down to Christine's office. Their paths do not cross.

Bob asks Ken to tell him exactly what happened, without the aid of his notes. Ken admits that he was in the garden, but he couldn't see what was happening on the roof from where he was. Bob asks him if he realises how serious it is, because it could mean Ted being up for attempted murder. Ken repeats that he was on the ground and couldn't see it. Bob calls it convenient(?!?!) He then suggests that in the 5-10 minutes before the ambulance arrived that Ken and Ted 'compared stories.' If he didn't see it it is the kid's word against his. "You don't have to cover up for him!" It's obvious he's trying to break him to get to the truth and Ken is visibly upset.

Ted hands Christine his statement and she asks if it "displays his usual use of imagination". Considering their past, she's really harsh on Ted and calls Brownlow in. Ted thinks it can wait, but Christine doesn't - especially as CIB are going to be involved.

In an interview room, June recaps Paul's statement, which details Ted moving toward his friend in a threatening manner and his arm being thrown out before his friend fell. She asks him to sign the statement and he hesitates. June asks him if he doesn't agree with the statement and his father tells her that he can't read or write. June tells him to put a cross against it instead and has his father sign the statement. He asks if his son is going to be prosecuted and June says it's up to the juvenile department and the inspector and may take several weeks until they know the answer. Tony updates Bob that the injured lad is now in a coma.

CIB arrive the next day and are greeted by Alec, who leads them to their office for the day.

Ted packs up his things into a briefcase. It's difficult to get the pics to show everything, but the essentials are there: a newspaper, scotch and aspirin.

Derek tells him off for causing aggravation over a juvenile thief. His bollocking is very unlike a Brownlow one as it's obvious he very much has his back and has knowledge of him as a person rather than a pawn in the station. Ted, being Ted, is very defensive and points out that he is there to arrest criminals, no matter who or what they are.

"I hope for your sake CIB sees it the same way!"

The father of Ted's accuser enters the station and asks to see the boss. He refuses to tell Claire what it's about and demands to see Bob. Alec tells Bob that Ken is getting a right grilling from CIB. Bob reveals the hidden biscuits....

... and tells Alec he has no faith in CIB making the right decision. "You know who and what I mean." He suspects that Ken is going to end up as the loser. "If they put Ken off being a copper, they're not doing anyone any favours." "You've got to admit he's a bit soft sometimes." Bob sums up that Ken is 'dead honest' which won't make him a lot of friends in the long run.

Claire brings Mr Wilson some tea and tells him that Bob has been delayed. He tells her to shove the tea because 'he wants to make a complaint.' Paul looks unsure and wants to leave, but Wilson shouts at him to shut up twice. Bob finally makes it over and tells him that he needs to see the Chief Inspector and CIB, and as CIB are being very thorough, there's no end to the length of time they'll have to wait. Paul looks very uncomfortable and clearly doesn't want to be there. Bob tells him that anything that is found to be untrue will add a charge of perjury to his offences. Wilson snaps that that's a threat and Bob tells him it's a warning and asks Paul again if he's sure. He clarifies that whatever is said has serious consequences for either him or Ted. Wilson accuses him again of threatening his son. Paul looks very uncomfortable and tells Bob that his friend is a nutter and jumped of his own accord. "I'll have you for this!" Wilson snaps at Bob.

At the end of the day, Derek arranges for CIB to be seen out and goes into CID, where Ted is unpacking his suitcase. "Any comments?" "He'd never have made it stick." Ted shrugs. Derek advises him to fork out for a few pints for Bob to thank him for what he did. He tells him he's been very lucky considering his record and how close he came to suspension. "Just get back to your duties."

In CAD, Alec takes a telephone call and tells the caller that he's very sorry to hear that. He goes up to CID and has to tell Ted that the boy has died from a haemorrhage. "I'm sorry, Ted." "What are you looking at me for? Don't go on about it. It wasn't my fault!" Ted says - but his face says a different story.

[junkyardbluebox]

Resurrection of the Daleks Episode 4 Screencaps, Part 1

[blade-liger-4ever]

Drakes' Remembrance

Nate silently walked toward the kitchen area in the humid midnight air of their Caribbean safehouse. Although they were still searching for that sunken pirate ship rumored to have been lost southwest of the Bermuda Triangle for his and Chloe's upcoming wedding, Nate felt confident enough in his stealth skills to risk waking his fiancée for a cup of hot cocoa to satisfy his hunger and thirst.

Carefully opening the door to the kitchen, he slid it shut quietly behind him and set about making his drink. Filling his Hawaiian-styled mug (which was chipped; beggars can't be choosers) with the cocoa powder, he leaned back as he waited for the water to boil to two-twelve Fahrenheit. Once the steam filled the space in front of him, Nate unplugged the countertop kettle and poured the blistering liquid into the cup. As he stirred the mixture, and the aroma lifted him from his drowsy state, his ears registered the faint opening of a door. Turning around, free hand reaching instinctively for a gun that wasn't on his person, Nate froze as he made eye contact with the man standing in the doorframe leading into the kitchen.

The man was an inch taller or shorter than him. He had a lean, yet sturdy build, much like Nate's own frame. His hair was jet black like his, and even had the same length and eternally disturbed look as Nate's. Last of all, the man had hazel eyes that seemed to track everything in a room.

They were exactly like Sam's.

But where Sam's held humor and primal determination, this man's eyes displayed nothing but studious focus and indifference.

Looking at Matthew "Matt" Morgan in the dim lighting of the small kitchen, Nate realized more clearly than ever why his father kept putting him in mind of a tiger.

Forcing himself to pick up his cocoa and walk over to the island with the stools, Nate quipped, "What's the matter, can't handle the nighttime Caribbean heat?"

His jest was off-put by the dryness in his throat, thus making his voice sound like a croaking toad. Swallowing, taking a seat, Nate absently stirred his drink as he watched his old man close the door. Somehow, Matt managed to do it as quietly as he had.

Stepping over, making as much noise as a ghost, Matt retorted as he took the seat directly opposite him, "This from the man who snuck into the kitchen in the dead of night?"

Man.

Not guy, fella, or even kid.

Man.

Nate wasn't sure if he should feel proud, angry, or depressed over his biological father referring to him in such a way after their history.

Settling for a combination of the three emotions, Nate took a sip of cocoa before casually shooting back, "If you'd stuck around to raise us, you'd've seen the things that can provoke such contradictory commentary from me."

He kept eye contact as he spoke. Matt didn't physically react, though he didn't miss the flash of annoyance in his gaze at Nate's words.

After another sip of his drink, Matt stated softly, "You were five when she killed herself."

Nate's fingers tightened on the mug's handle as his free hand, resting on the counter, balled into a fist. "Yeah," he ground out, trying to keep his voice steady as he lowered his cup. "What about it?"

"What do you remember about that day?" Matt questioned.

Nate thought for a long moment. Flashes of red, a prone body, a blurry image of the living room from an aerial view, and Sam's incoherent screams echoed in his mind.

"Nothing vivid," he finally admitted. "I remember seeing her dead, as if from a high vantage point, and Sam screaming bloody murder."

He was met with a grimace from Matt, and Nate supposed the terminology was in poor taste. For the first time in years, though, he couldn't bring himself to care about it.

"I'd just come back from a meeting with Evelyn," Matt spoke up, shifting his position on the stool. "I heard you...say something. Think it was along the lines of 'Mommy's lying on the floor'. I bolted in, saw what she'd done, then picked you up as Samuel raced in."

There was a pause before he added in a low tone, "Samuel lost it. He blamed me for her suicide."

Nate took a minute to absorb his words, watching as Matt's eyes wandered around the room. He took a longer sip of his cocoa.

"Was he right?"

He blurted out the question thoughtlessly. Matt stared at him, then queried, "What?"

"Was he right?" Nate repeated, feeling a furious heat rise in his chest.

"No, I'm confused that my son, who hasn't engaged in a civil conversation with me for longer than two minutes, is actually asking me if I caused his mother's death when he's made it clear that his brother's word is Gospel compared to anything that leaves my mouth," Matt fired back, eyes burning in controlled rage and indignation as he straightened in his seat.

Feeling ire burn in his veins, Nate countered hotly, "Well you said it yourself: I was five. Maybe Sam got something wrong and I wanna know from the old man himself, though I doubt it'll be true about her."

"Right, because your mother was such a perfect angel that she didn't give a crap about how she flushed the money from our jobs for Evelyn down the drain so long as she could get to the next big historical site rather than pay for her medical treatment," Matt snapped, leaning forward so fast that Nate took a second to realize that he'd stopped himself just short of what he assumed would've been a perfect lunge across the island.

Yeah, okay, he fit the description of a tiger.

His father's words rang in his mind, then sank in and registered. Nate's eyes widened, but he seemed to have struck a nerve: Matt kept going.

"I told her time after time to call off a job, that she needed to rest and get treatment for her condition," he growled, eyes on Nate but looking in the past. "But even when I warned her about the rep I had in those corners of the world, she'd laugh it off with a joke about how you only live once. That if you're gonna be put on this Earth, you may as well have fun to spite the risks of life.

"And then Cassandra would find you two ahead of me, and fill your heads with ideas of - exciting adventure, and sappy stories that would have you so enamored of her life and what we did that I couldn't say no to those puppy dog eyes," Matt rambled, voice rising slightly. He clenched a hand on the counter, face twisting in fury and grief.

"That woman was a siren," he said definitely - as if it were something he'd concluded more than once. He turned toward the wall, glaring at it as he finished, "A crazy, beautiful siren, who didn't care so long as the past was discovered and she could find it and share it with the rest of the world."

His voice, once reaching a note that bordered on Wake-All-In-The-House, trickled to a low murmur. Matt didn't look at him, choosing instead to stare at the wall so intensely, Nate briefly wondered if he was trying to burn holes in the wood through sheer force of will.

Then he saw the anger begin to fade away. Nate watched it slowly crumble and turn to dust until only two things remained in his earthen eyes:

Love and longing.

Feeling his wrath completely evaporate, Nate's fist unclenched as he finally realized something Sam never knew about their father.

"You always did love her, didn't you?" He whispered, torn between shock and remorse, before he awkwardly took another sip of his cocoa to wash away the arid feeling in his throat.

For the first time since he'd met him, Matt actually snorted. Unless he was imagining things, it partially covered up a laugh as well.

"Of course I loved her. It's why we argued so much," he replied, facing Nate again. Momentarily glancing aside, he added, "Samuel knew she was sick, but I'd protected him from how bad it'd gotten. When we fought, he didn't know that she was having trouble standing up for longer than an hour, or having trouble just breathing without devolving into a coughing fit at night. He saw what we wanted him to see, but coupled with the fights and how upset Cassandra would get..."

Matt's voice wavered, and he dragged a hand down his face. Feeling the puzzle pieces click together, Nate responded, "He thought you were putting strain on her and making it worse."

Matt nodded. "The money was drying up, which was killing Cassandra more than I dared think about. She kept insisting on finding Libertalia, or at least getting more clues on Francis' lost brood of kids. I was getting ready to put my foot down on further jobs, but we'd already stayed at home for almost a year. That was the longest she'd ever stayed put, and when she realized there wasn't enough money to either go on another job or pay for the treatment -"

"She ate a bullet," Nate interjected, the sound of a gunshot echoing in his mind. He blinked, and suddenly he was a five year old kid walking up beside his mother's dead body, crimson red liquid pooling from under her head. He shook in the memory, staring at his mother's empty mahogany gaze angled toward the ceiling -

A warm hand abruptly took his right in its own. Nate blinked, feeling his pulse pound in his ears as his legs quivered, then swallowed and looked up.

Matt had reached across the island to grab his hand. He'd pulled it away from his mug, and was giving it a light squeeze. "Breathe, son. It's okay."

Son.

One word he'd thought he'd never hear from any man other than Sully.

It came from the father he never knew - the one who, despite everything he'd just confessed, still abandoned him and his older brother to the state.

Nate squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his breathing to even out. In spite of himself, he found his hand clinging tightly to Matt's. If he imagined it the right way, he could feel the old man's steady pulse and centered on that feeling.

Taking a deep breath, Nate looked Matt in the eye and asked, "Why'd you give us up?"

He wanted to pull his hand away, but at the same time couldn't bring himself to do so. Matt seemed similarly reluctant, and gave his hand another squeeze, though it felt desperate.

"Cassandra's death....it hurt," he answered at last. Swallowing, staring at the countertop, he continued, "I was in pain, and angry. I didn't feel safe to be around my boys. And whenever I tried to help you two...Samuel wouldn't have it. He'd hide you from me, then fight with me over her suicide. In the end, I chose to hand you boys off in the hopes that you'd be put in a better place."

Nate processed his words, feeling them out. Satisfied it was the truth, he posed one last question:

"And Mom's work?"

Matt gave a tired sigh. "Giving you up was the hardest decision I'd ever made," he answered, rubbing his face with his free hand. "When I came back to the house, seeing it empty...I almost set it on fire, I was so angry. I chose to sell it off so that Cassandra's work wouldn't be completely lost, and that, maybe, something could be done with it in the future."

A long silence stretched out between them. Although nothing was said, Nate felt a kind of unspoken understanding form between them. Gently, as if to prevent sending the wrong message, he pulled his hand away from his father's, then reached for his mug and took another sip. The liquid had rapidly cooled, and Nate took the opportunity to finish it off.

Once he'd drunk the last of it, he lightly plunked it on the countertop with a long exhale. Tapping the mug's handle, he thought for a minute before softly announcing, "To be honest, I don't remember holding that much against you. Until we came face-to-face earlier this week, I didn't even know what you looked like.

"Sam...for the longest time, I only had him to rely on," his voice threatened to break as his mind recalled that fateful moment his brother fell back into the Panamanian prison, and how it felt like a part of his heart died with him. Shaking his head slightly to draw himself out of the memory, Nate made eye contact with Matt and finished, "He could be difficult sometimes, especially when we talked about you and Mom. But...I'm willing to extend an olive branch. If you plan on sticking around."

Matt stared at him for a long moment. Then, almost imperceptibly, a smile began to form on his face. "I'm willing to wait a while before going back to my usual business," he replied. Arching an eyebrow, he questioned, "And I suppose this means I'm invited to the wedding as well?"

Nate chuckled. Slipping off the stool, he answered with a grin, "Sully's the best man, but you're definitely welcome to join us."

"Thanks," his father responded, and Nate felt some burden lift from his shoulders. Stepping toward the sink, he placed the mug inside, then considered the sponge.

"Go back to bed," Matt said, abruptly appearing beside him. Nate looked at him as Matt, picking up the sponge, added, "I'll take care of this. Don't worry about it."

Stepping back, Nate nodded and replied, "Appreciate it."

Walking toward the door, he reached for the handle, then paused. Looking back, watching his father wash the mug and spoon, he considered his words before grabbing his courage by the horns and bidding, "Good night...Dad."

Matt froze as he placed the mug in the dish rack and, unwilling to acknowledge what he'd just done, Nate turned and opened the door. As he pulled the door to, he barely caught his father's whispered, "Good night, Nathan."

Smiling, Nate walked back toward the bedroom, a content feeling settling in his stomach as he did.

[incomingalbatross]

I have like half or two-thirds of a Doctor Who fancast for LotR in my head, and categories of choices include:

yeah this is just the obvious choice

this is the choice I'm making but I acknowledge it's one of several obvious options (this mostly comes up with wizards)

listen this may not seem intuitive but THINK ABOUT IT. I'm not budging here

yeah this may not seem intuitive and...I'm not super sold on it but it's the best I got

[droptoeholdyourhorses]

[giddyaunt425]

[o-the-mts]

Doctor Who Television Review: The Five Doctors

Title:  The Five Doctors Story Number:  129 Season:  20 (special) Screenwriter:  Terrance Dicks Director: Peter Moffatt Thoughts: The 20th anniversary special marks the first time the recurring problem of not being able to get all the former Doctors to return, and William Hartnell essentially made a cameo appearance in The Three Doctors.  Since Hartnell died in 1983, he is recast here by Richard…